Date

POV – Zayn

"You did what?!!"

"Oh, come on! I just asked if she's mute."

"You basically insulted her, Zayn!"

"Wait... am I dreaming?" came his sarcastic question.

"I don't know. Pinch yourself," I replied.

A few seconds later, I heard a wince.

"Ahhhhowww."

"You're really getting married?"

I rolled my eyes.

Yes, you guessed it right—I'm on a call with Asher. And, as always, he's being a dick.

"When's the wedding?"

"We haven't decided yet," I replied.

"So... do you like her? Or is this just an arrangement?"

"She's unique," I deadpanned.

"Unique? How?" I could hear the confusion in his voice.

"She has that fire in her eyes... that sass... the confidence..."

"Yup. You're smitten."

"Shut up. You asked for the details."

"I did not."

"When are you getting married?" I asked, deflecting.

"I... I don't know. Focus on your wedding and fiancée for now."

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. Asher never stutters. Something's off.

"I'll definitely send you my invitation if I get married," came Asher's direct reply.

I sighed. "Asher, we haven't even distributed the invitations yet."

"You forgot your best friend," he said in a voice laced with fake hurt.

"Asher!"

Suddenly, I heard a woman's voice on his end.

"You have a woman? At this time?" I glanced at my watch—it showed 2:30 a.m.

"Talk to you later, Zayn. Make sure to send me the invites."

And the call disconnected.

I went to take a shower, my thoughts wandering to my fiancée.

She has those hazel brown eyes—so pretty, so mesmerizing.

What about Bellissima?

I thought about those blue orbs—so captivating. She has some features similar to Bella... if I look closely.

The plump pink lips... the waist-length wavy hair...

What if they're the same person?

What? Where did that come from?

Her personality is completely different. My fiancée is sweet and polite. Bellissima is like fire and ice combined.

With that conflicting thought, I went to sleep.

It's almost 1:30 p.m. now. I'm getting dressed for the date I planned.

Are you really serious about her?

I don't know... I have my doubts. She might be innocent, but what if all of it is an act?

To figure this out, I need to get to know her.

It was finally time.

I headed into the garage.

Which car should I take?

After a moment, I decided on my matte black Ferrari.

I parked in front of my fiancée's mansion. A maid answered the door and politely guided me to a waiting area.

Cream-colored sofas, a cream rug beneath the glass coffee table, and a massive chandelier overhead. I glanced around, taking in the elegant decor.

Then I heard footsteps coming from the staircase.

My gaze instinctively followed the sound.

There she was—my fiancée—wearing a stunning satin royal blue dress with a sexy cross front. There's something about her... the way she makes every dress look effortlessly beautiful and elegant.

She was coming downstairs.

My eyes involuntarily drank in every inch of her.

She was checking me out too—her eyes roaming all over me.

She missed the last step.

Before she could hit the floor, I rushed forward and grabbed her waist. She landed against my chest, inches from my face. I could feel her soft breaths on my neck. Her eyes were wide with shock, and she was clutching me like her life depended on it.

Her brown curls framed her face. I moved them aside gently to get a better look.

"Are you okay?" I whispered.

She hesitated, then nodded.

She pushed softly to free herself, and I let go. She started walking toward the door, and I followed.

"Here?" she asked.

Now I'll figure out her real intentions. I smirked inwardly, executing my plan.

We were at a local beach.

The sun was high. The salty air mixed with the sounds of the crowd.

I glanced at Bella, waiting for signs of disgust or annoyance.

But all I saw was confusion.

"Oh, come on!" she huffed. She turned to me, annoyed. "You could have told me it's a beach date!"

I raised a brow.

"I'm overdressed!" she groaned.

I looked her up and down and chuckled. She was right. That royal blue dress screamed fancy dinner, not beach date.

"If you want, you can remove that," I whispered in her ear.

She shivered as my lips brushed her skin and gave me a light shove.

"Let's have ice cream," she said quickly, trying to escape the situation. She bolted toward the ice cream van.

I followed.

"One vanilla and... what flavor do you want?" she asked, turning back.

"We can share," I smiled.

"Oh... okay."

"One large vanilla cone, please," she ordered.

The vendor handed her the cone. I reached for my card, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me away.

"Let's sit there," she said, pointing to a quieter spot.

I nodded, showing my black card to the vendor.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Paying?"

"I already paid."

"When?"

I turned to the vendor, who nodded. "Ma'am has paid, sir."

"Oh... okay," I said, putting my card away.

She sat next to me, licking the ice cream. Watching her suck on it...

Got me hard.

"You want some?" she asked.

"No, you carry on."

"I can't finish it. I ordered a large because we were supposed to share."

"Fine," I said as she handed me the cone. I licked the same spot she had. She blushed hard.

"What's going on in that pretty little head?" I asked.

"N-nothing," she stammered.

I smirked, taking another lick. I noticed her eyes flicking to my lips.

Suddenly, she snatched the cone back and resumed eating, rolling her eyes at my grin.

"Let's go to the water," I suggested just as she popped the last bite into her mouth.

Her eyes widened slightly—surprise? Fear? I couldn't tell.

She nodded slowly and stood, brushing sand off her dress.

I offered my hand. She hesitated, then took it.

We were nearly at the water's edge when she stopped.

"Zayn... I..."

"You go ahead. I'll stay here."

"I... I don't want to get wet," she mumbled, looking everywhere but at me.

"You're a terrible liar, Princess."

She looked down, biting her lip.

"I... I'm not lying."

"Hmm?"

"Fine. I don't know how to swim," she finally admitted.

"We're not swimming. Just walking with our feet in the water."

"Oh..." she visibly relaxed.

I smiled, and we kept walking—hand in hand.

"Wait," she said. She removed her heels. I took off my shoes too.

As we walked, I glanced at our hands. Mine practically engulfed hers.

Suddenly, I felt water lap at my toes. We'd reached the shore.

"Zayn!!!"

I turned in alarm, just in time to catch her in my arms.

She hugged me tightly.

My eyes widened. She wouldn't let go. I heard her muttering something I couldn't understand.

"Princess?" I asked, alarmed.

I held her close, arms tight around her waist.

She was shaking.

"Princess," I whispered softly, not wanting to startle her.

"N-no... don't leave me. Please," she pleaded.

My heart clenched.

She was having a panic attack.

"Princess, no one's leaving you."

I ran my fingers gently through her hair.

"Shhh... you're safe. I've got you."

"Can you hear me?"

"Hmm..." she mumbled, eyes still shut.

"Baby, hold on to me. Tight. Okay?"

She barely nodded.

I lifted her legs and wrapped them around my waist. She clung to me tightly as I carried her away from the water.

When we were far enough, she whispered, "Y-you can put me down."

I gently lowered her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." she answered softly, fixing her heels.

Before I could say anything else, a beach ball bounced our way.

"Hey, sorry!" A boy—maybe six or seven—ran up to us.

"It's alright. Be carefu—"

"Can I play?" my fiancée interrupted me.

I looked at her, amused. Her hazel brown eyes sparkled with excitement.

The boy looked between us. "Is he playing too?"

She raised her eyebrows at me. I nodded.

"Hey! They're playing with us!" the boy shouted to the net.

A little girl peeked out and nodded.

"Let's make teams," I suggested.

Bella looked like she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

"You're really playing?" she asked.

"Of course."

"Boys always win!" the boy beamed.

"Of course they do," I said, ruffling his hair.

"Yeah?" my fiancée challenged. "Let's play a match then—boys vs. girls. Let's see who wins!"

The kids agreed enthusiastically.

"Fine by me," I said.

"We'll show them, right buddy?" I fist-bumped my tiny teammate.

"No! Girls always win!" the little girl shouted.

"Let the game begin!" Bella said, tossing the ball toward me.

We played until we were exhausted, the sun setting in the distance.

"Crystal! Zayn!"

We turned around at the same time.

It was a woman—probably in her early 30s.

"Yes, Aunty!"
"Yes, Mom!" we both answered together.

"It's time to go home now, Zayn. Bring your friend too."

That's when I realized—my little companion shared my name.

We waved goodbye to the kids and walked back to my car.

"Now what?" she asked.

I started the engine and smiled at her.

"The journey," I said, "has just started."

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Untill Next Time!!

Have an awesome day!!